One of the Lads
by sneetchstar
Summary: Guinevere returns home and finds herself roommates with her three male friends. And, Arthur. Modern AU, one-shot.


"Well, that's easy. Move in with us."

Merlin had a way of making things seem so simple. _You're moving back to London from Chicago? Oh, all right. You have to find a place to live? Easy. We've got room. Problem solved._

"I couldn't. Aren't there, like, four of you in there already?" Guinevere asks, fingers tracing patterns in the condensation on her glass. She'd met him for lunch at a cafe, and since it's a nice day, they chose to sit outside.

"Yeah, but it's a house. It's not like it's a tiny flat. We've got plenty of room."

"How many bedrooms does it have?" she asks, lulled by his confidence that this is a good idea.

"Three," he simply answers.

"_Three?_ Merlin, there are four men living in a three bedroom house and you think there's room for me as well? They'll never go for that," she protests.

"Gwen, Leon and Percival are already sharing the largest bedroom. Arthur – you remember Arthur right? Arthur Pendragon? He's got the next largest, and I have the smallest room, which is also the most private. There's room enough in Arthur's for me to bunk with him."

Arthur. That's a name Gwen hadn't heard in years. Leon, Percival, and Merlin have been her friends for as long as she can remember. Friends since year one. Arthur had been part of the group, but his father moved their family away when he was ten, after his mother died. Persistent Merlin was the only one who managed to keep in contact with him, first as pen pals, then progressing to email with the advent of the Internet.

Apparently, he's back.

"I don't know..." she says. "I mean, I need to get out of Elyan's house. Like, _need._ I mean, I love my niece and nephew, but..."

"Yeah, three-year-old twins can be a lot to take. Especially those two," Merlin agrees, chuckling. "So, is that a yes?"

"I just don't know, Merlin..."

"Gwen, the guys love you. It'll be fine."

"I feel like I'd be imposing."

"Nah, the way I figure, everyone benefits. Another set of hands to do the chores. Another person who knows how to cook – not that we're expecting you to cook for us, of course, but right now Leon is the only one with any culinary skills. And best of all, you'll be paying a share of the rent, which means _we'll_ have a little less to pay."

She sighs. "Talk to them first, please, and then I'll think about it."

Merlin whips out his mobile and immediately starts texting. "On it right now."

"God, Merlin, you can wait until you see them!" she exclaims, but she's laughing because she knows very well he _can't_ wait.

xXx

"Gwen!"

She is greeted by a chorus of male voices as she stands wide-eyed in the doorway, suitcase leaning beside her.

"Um, hi."

"Hey, guys," Elyan calls, appearing behind Gwen, a box already in his hands. They all greet Elyan, though not as enthusiastically as they did his sister, having seen him more recently.

Merlin is at Gwen's side in a second taking the suitcase from her so she can be greeted by Leon, who hugs her warmly, but gently, also kissing her cheek. "It's so good to see you," he says, his blue eyes twinkling.

"You, too," she replies, blinking back tears as she sees her old friend. She turns and is immediately lifted off her feet and engulfed in a giant bear hug that threatens to steal her breath. "Percival!" she gasps.

"Gwennie!" he answers, spinning her around before setting her back on her feet. "Welcome!" He grins and bends to kiss her cheek as well.

"See, told you it was fine," Merlin says.

Gwen rolls her eyes at him. She turns slightly and sees the fourth housemate hovering in the back, leaning against the wall. "Arthur?" she asks.

What was once a skinny, slightly hyperactive boy with hair so blonde it was almost white has grown into a fit, seemingly quiet, serious man with golden hair and a face that looks like it had been sculpted by a gifted artist.

_Puberty was good to you, Arthu__r__._

"Hello, Guinevere," he answers, not moving from his position holding up the wall. "Welcome back to London."

"Um, thank you," she says. "It's good to see you again." _That's right. He always called me "Guinevere", even when we were nine._

"You, too. You've grown up," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smile as he looks at her, marveling over how the scrawny, tiny, flat-chested tomboy with frizzy hair has grown into a beautiful, curvaceous woman. "Somewhat," he adds.

"Hey, she can't help she stopped getting taller at 13," Elyan interjects, walking past with a box from Gwen's car.

"Thank you, Elyan... I think," she says. Her older brother simply shrugs off her embarrassment with a teasing grin

Guinevere turns to Leon. "Thanks for letting me stay here," she adds, then heads out to help unload her car and the small truck she rented.

He nods and trails after her. Arthur hesitates, then follows them outside.

xXx

Later that week, she meets Merlin for lunch and asks the question that has been bugging her since he told her how much the rent was. Or more accurately, how_ littl__e__._

"Merlin, are you sure you told me the right amount? I mean, I feel like I'm taking advantage enough, but is this _really_ what the rest of you are paying?" she asks.

He nods. "Yep. It's super cheap, I know, but that's because it's split up five ways."

"Still seems low," she says, doing some quick math in her head.

Merlin says nothing, looking off to the side.

"Merlin, what aren't you telling me?"

"Hmm? Nothing. We just have a very good deal, that's all," he answers, still avoiding her eyes

"You are a terrible liar."

He looks at her. "Fine. I'm not supposed to tell you, but Arthur owns the house. We pay him rent and he puts it towards the mortgage along with his own share."

Gwen blinks in surprise. "Oh. Wait, isn't Arthur like super rich? Why does he even have a mortgage?"

"His father is super rich. Arthur isn't. He's... kind of been on the outs with Uther since just before graduation when he decided to go into business for himself rather than join the family business. He bought the house because it is a good investment, and since we were all fresh out of university, unattached, and in need of a home, he suggested we all share the house and the bills that go with. I think he actually pays more than we do, but he will neither confirm nor deny this theory."

"Wow, that's... really nice. And, smart. Why didn't he want me to know?"

"He didn't think you would be comfortable living there if you knew he owned the house."

"Oh."

"Would you have agreed to move in if you had known?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I barely know Arthur anymore."

"Fair enough." He pauses. "Oh, um, Gwen?"

"Right, I don't know anything," she says, smiling.

The next night, she splurges on dinner, cooking steak for everyone. They protest at first, telling her it's too much, she shouldn't have.

"Too late. I've got all this steak seasoned and ready to go, so you lot are going to eat it," she says.

"What have we done to deserve such an excellent dinner?" Percival asks.

"Just my way of saying 'thank you' for letting me live here," she says, smiling. "You didn't have to, and I just want you to know I really appreciate it. Especially Merlin and Arthur, who both gave up having their own rooms."

"Anytime, Gwen," Merlin answers.

"He snores, you know," Arthur says, trying not to smile. He finds it inexplicably difficult not to smile when he looks at Guinevere.

"Piss off, so do you," Merlin shoots back, shoving his shoulder. "He meant to say, 'It's no trouble at all, Guinevere'," he adds, looking at her.

"I _meant_ to say you snore," Arthur protests, but he's laughing now, giving up on trying to hide it. He turns toward Guinevere. "But, I'm getting used to it." He's not laughing anymore, but there's a slight smile gracing his handsome features.

"Well, I am grateful, and I figured steaks would be something you lads would genuinely appreciate," she says.

"We're happy to have you in our home, and back on this side of the Atlantic," Leon says, stepping forward to hug her. Percival steps up next, hugging her much gentler this time, but he still completely engulfs her. Then, she hugs Merlin, kissing his cheek as well. She pauses in front of Arthur, then steps forward and carefully hugs him, not sure how he'll react. _Fifteen years is a long time._ His arms wrap around her with equal care.

He finds he wants to pull her closer, feel her body pressed against his, and bury his nose in her fragrant hair.

"Thank you," she whispers, stepping back and wondering why she suddenly feels warmer. A lot warmer. "Um, how do you all like your steaks?"

"Medium rare," they all say.

"Why did I even ask?" she mutters, lifting the tray and heading outside to the grill. She can still feel the warmth of Arthur's arms around her. The cool fall air is welcome against her flushed skin.

Inside, Arthur surreptitiously watches Guinevere through the window, her scent lingering in his nostrils, her smile imprinting itself in his memory.

She closes the lid of the grill, sets the spatula down, then stretches, her arms reaching up over her head, eyes closed. The hem of her shirt rises, and Arthur is treated to the sight of her toned stomach with its cute little bellybutton.

He doesn't realize he's staring until she opens her eyes and catches him. He quickly moves away from the window.

_Oh, that's not obvious at all._ Arthur reaches into the refrigerator, needing something cold.

xXx

To Gwen's surprise, she found she liked living there. The guys were relatively tidy. Relatively quiet. Except during rugby or football, in which cases Gwen was just as loud as they, so it didn't matter.

They were respectful of her privacy. They didn't expect her to be their mum or maid. She cooked dinner one night a week for all of them, but Leon did so as well.

Merlin was fastidious about cleaning bathrooms. Leon could not abide a disorderly kitchen. Percival loved to mow the lawn. Arthur had a strange affinity for the vacuum cleaner. Guinevere was in charge of dusting.

She planted a few flowers outside. No one minded. Percival even complimented her about them.

Things were going well. Occasionally, Merlin and Arthur would snipe at one another, but they never stayed mad for long. Occasionally, someone would eat something of Gwen's or drink one of her flavored waters, but they would always apologize and often replace what they had taken.

Leon had a girlfriend, Mithian, who would regularly come over. She was always there when he cooked dinner. She was nice. Gwen liked her, and she liked Gwen. Leon and Percival had some sort of system worked out where if Mithian stayed over, Percival would be elsewhere. Sometimes, Leon would spend the night at Mithian's.

There were two bathrooms. Leon and Percival shared the master bedroom, which had an en suite bath. Merlin, Arthur, and Gwen used the other. Gwen always made sure to clean her hair out of the drain and the two men kept the sink free of whiskers and _attempted_ to remember to put the seat down. Occasionally. Gwen was realistic about the toilet seat, fully aware that she is outnumbered.

Then, one morning Arthur is running a bit late. Gwen is heading to the bathroom (usually free at this time) and finds Arthur heading out, hair damp and disorderly, a red towel slung low around his waist.

It suddenly occurrs to Guinevere that she has been living in a house with four men for over two weeks, and this is the first bare chest she's seen.

And, what a sight it is. She pauses in her steps to avoid physically bumping into Arthur, and steals a moment to devote to memory his broad shoulders, well-formed pecs, and almost-washboard stomach. Her fingers twitch, wondering if the light covering of chest hair is soft or coarse, wondering if his ribs would be ticklish if she poked them.

"Hey, Guinevere. Sorry, overslept a little," he greets, his eyes quickly scanning her slender body, flawless skin, and shapely legs that somehow look longer than they should be for someone her height. Her toenails are painted lavender. Her hair is coming loose from its braid, little wispy curls sticking out every which way. He finds himself wondering if her skin feels as soft as it looks, if her sleep-soft lips are as luxurious as he imagines.

"It's fine," she answers, her voice almost a whisper, acutely aware of her rumpled appearance and lack of bra.

He smiles a tiny smile and heads to his room. Gwen risks a peek as he walks away, curious about the view from behind.

It's worth the risk.

She bites back her smile and turns to go into the bathroom.

She doesn't see Arthur turn back and give her a similar appraisal.

Merlin sees it, and lightly smacks him on the head.

xXx

One month. It's 8:45 a.m., and the house is quiet. Gwen has taken the day off and is basically alone in the house. Percival is home, but he's shut in his room, possibly still sleeping. A personal trainer, his hours vary based on clients.

Gwen is just fixing a cup of tea when the doorbell rings. She sets her cup down and goes to the front door, wondering who would be calling at this time of day.

She opens the door to see a delivery man with a box the size of a small refrigerator, resting on a dolly. "Yes?" Gwen says.

"Delivery for..." he looks at his clipboard, "Percival Armstrong." He looks up at her, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, he lives here," Gwen confirms, stepping aside so the man can wheel the box in. He sets it right in the middle of the entranceway, and it lands with a heavy thud.

"Sign here," he says, thrusting the clipboard at her. It turns out to be some sort of electronic tablet, and Gwen signs on the indicated spot with the stylus. "Have a good day," he says, leaving.

"You, too," she answers, shutting the door. The box is right in the way of everything. She attempts to move it, only to find she can barely budge it. "Bugger," she says. "What the hell did you get?" she wonders aloud, heading towards Percival's room.

_Probably some sort of fitness equipment._ She knocks lightly. "Percival?" She listens at the door and hears nothing. _Heavy sleeper._ She knocks louder. "Percival?" she calls.

She hears grumbling that sounds vaguely like "Come in." She opens the door and pokes her head in.

"Percival? There's— oh! Um, sorry..." She quickly closes the door and leans against the wall, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, trying to process what she has just seen.

Percival was still in bed, mostly asleep. He wasn't alone. A head of dark, longish hair was resting quite comfortably on his shoulder, attached to a different muscular shoulder leading to an equally impressive arm, which was draped across Percival's broad chest. The rest was a tangle of blankets.

The door creaked open and a red-faced Percival steps out, pulling a t-shirt on over a pair of shorts. "Um..." he says, not knowing what to say.

"No, sorry, sorry, I thought I heard you say 'come in', so I opened the door, and I _promise_ I didn't see anything... I mean, you were both covered... and... I guess I'm just... _really_ surprised!" she blurts.

"So was I," he says, sighing. He rubs his hand over his short hair. "Gwen, um... the lads don't know. I mean, I haven't told them. Yet."

"I won't say anything," she says, reaching over and squeezing his massive hand. "It's not my news to tell."

"Thank you," he says.

"But, you _will_ tell them, right?"

"Working up to it."

She says nothing for a moment. "Does he make you happy?"

"Yeah," he admits, a stupid grin crossing his face.

"Then, I'm good. They will be, too."

He nods. "I know. It's just... kind of new."

"I understand." She squeezes his hand once more, then releases it.

"What did you want, by the way?" he asks.

"Oh! A bloody great box arrived, and the delivery man left it in the middle of the foyer. I can't move it," she says.

"Oh, it's here already?" he asks, brightening. They walk to the entranceway, where he slides the box out of the way with relative ease. "New weight set," he explains. "I'll take care of it later."

"Right. Um, I was just making tea... do you and your... friend... want some?"

"You want to meet him?" Percival asks, eyes widening.

"Well, yeah," Gwen answers, as if it should be obvious. "What were you planning to do, sneak him out the window? Hide him under your bed all day?"

"I didn't know you were off today," he admits.

"Go see if he wants tea," she laughs, ineffectively pushing at her huge friend.

"All right, I'll go see if I can yank his arse out of bed," he says.

"Hey, Percival?"

"Yeah?"

"So, are you like, bi, or full-on gay, or what?" she asks, grinning.

He laughs, realizing his anxiety over telling his friends might be unwarranted. "Trying to figure that out. I still think _you're_ cute," he answers, winks, and disappears.

His name is Gwaine. He's Irish, charming, and hilarious. Where Percival is quiet and reserved, Gwaine is exuberant and charismatic. Gwen loves him immediately, and he loves her. She thinks he's perfect for Percival.

Encouraged by Gwen, Percival tells the lads the next night. He invited Gwaine to come watch rugby with them. Gwen is cooking, and makes sure to include a plate for Gwaine. They always eat in the sitting room with folding tables on game night.

"Um, lads, this is Gwaine," Percival introduces. "He's, um, I mean, he and I, we're..." He reaches over and takes Gwaine's hand.

"Your _boyfriend_?" Merlin asks, a slow grin starting.

"Sort of," Percival answers. Gwaine elbows him. "Yes."

There is a second of silence, then:

"Hey, nice to meet you, Gwaine."

"Do you work with Percival? Wait, you're not one of his clients, are you?"

"Hope you like spaghetti. Gwen's homemade sauce is the best."

Percival breathes, smiles over at Guinevere, and flops onto the couch. "He's not one of my clients," he says once the chatter has died down. "Well, not anymore."

There is laughter. Then, Leon asks, "So, when Mith stays over here, you've been going, where, his place?"

"Lately, yeah," Percival says.

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"About a month... month and a half?" Percival answers, looking at Gwaine.

"Month and a half. I had to fire him as a trainer so I could ask him out," Gwaine says, chuckling. "Got tired of having to hide the fact that I kept getting a chub— ow!"

"Yeah, they don't need to hear about that," Percival interrupts.

"Besides, the game's on now," Arthur points out. "Guinevere, game's starting, Love. Can we come get our plates?" he calls to the kitchen.

"Yeah, just draining the noodles," she answers, not really taking note of how Arthur has addressed her. It's just something he occasionally says.

They all stand and head for the kitchen.

"I hope you're hungry, mate. She always makes enough pasta for an army," Arthur says, clapping Gwaine on the shoulder.

"My mum has the same problem," Gwaine says.

"Mine does that with potatoes," Leon says.

"So does mine!" Merlin adds. "Actually, she does both, come to think of it."

They file in, fill their plates, grab drinks, and head back out to watch the game.

"Hey, are Arthur and Gwen, like, together?" Gwaine quietly asks Percival as the second half is beginning.

"No," Percival answers as though the thought had never even occurred to him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, he called her 'Love' earlier…"

"Yeah, he does that sometimes. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it."

"That's not helping your case," Gwaine points out. "Also, well, look at them."

Percival looks over at Gwen. She's sitting on a chair she's pulled over from the dining table, using Arthur's knees as a foot rest. Arthur is sitting in an upholstered leather chair, one hand clutching a bottle of ale, the other casually resting on Gwen's crossed ankles. During tense moments of the game, his fingers grip her leg, sometimes patting (or, once or twice, hitting) it. Gwen doesn't seem to mind or even notice, as she is just as involved in the game.

"So? Three days ago she was sitting on my lap," Percival says.

"No, _really_ look. You've been hanging around straight guys too much," he laments. "Oblivious."

"Well, considering I thought I _was_ a straight guy till recently…" Percival answers, watching Arthur, how his eyes flit to Gwen whenever there's a break in the action, either to the fuzzy purple feet on his lap or, once or twice, up to her face. His eyes soften when he looks up at her. Percival shifts his attention to Gwen, and sees she's doing much the same. She seems to be very aware of every move Arthur makes, every time his hand moves on her leg. As Percival watches, Arthur's fingers accidentally touch bare skin and he sees both of them react. Gwen's lips part and she blinks a few times. Arthur indulgently allows his fingers to stay there for a few seconds before clearing his throat and lifting his hand from her leg to scratch a surely-nonexistent itch before placing his hand back on her leg, a little further away from the cuff of her flannel trousers.

"Bloody hell," Percival whispers.

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Merlin asks, finally noticing their bent heads. "If you need some privacy or someth— ah!" his words are cut off by an expertly-thrown pillow, courtesy of Leon.

The game goes to commercial, and Gwaine speaks up. "So, Gwen, you live here with all these blokes and you're not... you know..."

"No, just friends. I have my own room and everything," she answers, slightly shifting in her seat. She's not terribly comfortable, and her butt is falling asleep. Arthur lifts his hand in case she needs to move her feet, but she leaves them there, stubbornly telling herself that she is _not_ enduring discomfort just to keep in contact with Arthur.

"You have to admit, it's a bit unusual," Gwaine says.

"We've known Gwen forever. She's our mate, and she needed a place to live," Merlin volunteers.

"I guess I've always been one of the lads," Gwen says, smiling.

There's a bit of sadness in her smile though. Gwaine sees it. He also sees the brief cloud that passes over Arthur's face.

"They should totally go out," Gwaine mutters.

"What was that?" Percival asks.

"You heard me. Game's back on," he says.

By the end of the game, Gwen has moved to sit on the floor. Merlin threw her the pillow to sit on. Arthur shifted his legs to the side so she could lean against his chair.

xXx

Two months. Merlin decides they're going to have a movie marathon. It's a Friday. They had all worked that day, but Merlin thinks six p.m. is a reasonable time to order up pizzas and watch the Cornetto Trilogy: _Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, _and _The World's End._

Gwen makes sure to secure a seat on the sofa this time. She's learned if she doesn't assert herself, she gets stuck with the crap seat, dish drying duty, or no ale because someone else had gotten the last one.

However, because she is the smallest person in the house and still her usually-thoughtful self, she takes the middle seat.

Arthur plunks down on her right. Merlin puts the first movie on and scurries to the spot on her left. Percival takes the recliner and Leon is left with the upholstered leather chair. Gwaine is out of town and Mithian is having a girls' night with some of her friends (she invited Gwen, who declined), so it's just the five housemates.

"Too bad we don't have any Cornettos," Leon comments while they eat their pizza.

"_Do_ we have any, Guinevere?" Arthur asks.

"No. Percival ate the last one two days ago and no one has been to the market," she answers. "Thank you," she adds when he passes her another piece of pizza.

"The ham and pineapple is almost gone," he explains. "I know it's your favorite."

"Thank you," she repeats, softer.

After the first movie, they stretch, toss the pizza boxes, use the bathroom, and refresh their drinks. Leon attempts to steal Gwen's spot, wishing to improve his seat.

Gwen returns from the bathroom just in time to see Arthur preventing Leon from taking her place. She pretends not to notice, but feels a strange smile tugging at her lips as she goes to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

Three-quarters of the way through _Hot Fuzz_, Percival falls asleep. Leon is nodding. Gwen is getting tired, too, but she loves these movies and is determined to stay awake out of her devotion to Simon Pegg and Nick Frost.

"We should watch _Paul_ sometime," Merlin says, yawning. "You know, the one with the alien?"

"Of course I do," Gwen answers. "It's hilarious."

"I haven't seen that one," Arthur admits.

"You haven't?" Merlin is shocked. "We'll have to remedy that."

"Not tonight," Gwen insists, laughing. Somehow, her head falls against Arthur's shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind, so she stays.

A minute later, he lifts his arm and wraps it around her. She relaxes against him.

Leon is asleep before the first alien gets his head ripped off in _The World's End._ Merlin follows ten minutes later.

"Guinevere, are you awake?" Arthur asks.

"Mmm-hmm," she answers.

"I... I need to use the loo," he says. She gets the feeling that wasn't what he intended to say.

"Oh." She sits up to allow him out.

He returns a few minutes later and sits. Gwen doesn't make any move to return to his shoulder.

"Um, if you were comfortable, you can lean on me again," he offers.

"Only if you don't mind," she says, glancing over at him.

"If I minded, I wouldn't have offered," he says, wincing inwardly. _Not the right thing to say._ "I mean to say, I, um... I liked you leaning against me."

"You did?" she softly asks. He nods and lifts his arm, inviting her back.

She shifts back over to him, accidentally kicking Merlin in the process. He snorts, but doesn't wake. She giggles. "A plane could hit the house and I would be the only one woken by it," she says.

"Probably," Arthur agrees, turning his head towards her. "You smell really good," he quietly adds.

"Thank you."

"You always do." His hand moves, searching for hers, and he closes his fingers around her small hand. "I really like you, Guinevere."

"I like you, too, Arthur," she says, hoping he's saying what she thinks he's saying. Her heart is pounding a mile a minute, but she endeavors to stay composed until she knows for sure.

"I don't think you understand. I _really_ like you," he clarifies, reaching up with his other hand and touching her chin with his fingertip, gently turning her face towards his. "A lot."

She looks up into his eyes and forgets how to breathe. "I_ do_ understand," she says. "I understand… a lot."

His gaze drops from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes. They drop to her lips again, and he ducks his head and kisses her.

Guinevere sighs into the kiss, her body feeling warm and boneless as he shifts them, moving her onto his lap to gain better access to her lips. They part for just a moment, and when Arthur returns, his lips are parted, seeking more, his tongue coaxing hers to meet his.

"Does this mean you like me, too?" he asks, his thumb stroking her cheek, his other hand on her back, half touching skin, half touching shirt.

"Yes," she answers. "A lot." She smiles and kisses him, her fingers gripping his shoulders as they get lost in each other again.

"Wait," he grunts, groping for the remote controls. He switches off the movie and television, then stands, lifting her with him.

"We haven't finished the movie," Guinevere dumbly protests. _Shut up. You don't care._

He kisses her. "I know what happens _there_," he says, kissing her again. "I'm more interested in finding out what happens _here_."

"Oh…" she answers, breathless.

He takes two steps towards her room, then pauses. "I mean, if this is what you want," he says, suddenly realizing he's behaving like a caveman. "I don't want to push you into…"

She kisses him. "Keep walking, Arthur."

xXx

Merlin groans and stretches. "Ow..." he groans, his neck stiff from sleeping slumped on the couch. He looks around. Percival is still sleeping, but he can hear Leon moving around in the kitchen.

Not thinking a thing about the whereabouts of Arthur or Gwen, he shuffles to the bathroom, then to his bedroom, where he thinks about going back to bed for a bit. _Ugh, no, then you'll be up all night tonight._

Arthur's bed is empty and made, with his mail from yesterday still sitting exactly where it was when Merlin put it there.

_Where is Arthur?_ He goes back to the kitchen and finds Leon is alone. "Have you seen Arthur?"

"Thought he was still sleeping," Leon says. "Tea? I'm cooking eggs, do you want some?"

"Yes, and yes, thanks. His bed hasn't been slept in," Merlin answers.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I put his mail on his bed yesterday, and it's still there. Hey, Percival." Merlin greets Percival, who has just shuffled into the kitchen.

Leon pulls another mug from the cupboard, knowing Percival will also want some tea.

"What's still where?" Percival asks, sitting.

"Arthur's mail," Merlin explains. "We can't find Arthur. His bed hasn't been slept in."

"Probably with Gwen," Percival says.

"Huh?"

"What?"

Percival looks up, smirking. "Gwaine was right. Oblivious," he says, chuckling. "Thanks, mate." He takes the mug Leon has offered and drinks.

"Oblivious to what?" Merlin asks.

Percival rolls his eyes. "Arthur and Gwen. They fancy each other."

"No..."

"Yes. Gwaine pointed it out to me last month. It's pretty obvious, once you take notice. They both think they're so subtle," he chuckles. "Arthur always has to know where Gwen is and Gwen can't even talk to Arthur without blushing."

"Bloody..." Leon says, realization dawning as he remembers the countless times he's heard Arthur ask, "Where's Guinevere?" or "Has anyone seen Guinevere?", or seen Arthur leave the room just after she has, trailing after her like a puppy following his mistress.

"Bugger me, you're right," Merlin says. "Well, don't _actually_ bugger me, Percival, it's just an expression," he adds, grinning fiendishly.

Leon spits tea across the kitchen. Percival's head falls onto the kitchen table, laughing.

"Her voice always gets a little softer when she talks to him," Merlin says once they've regained their composure.

"Or about him," Leon adds.

"And, this could be my imagination, but it seems like she touches him more than any of us. Like..." He reaches his hand across and rests it on Leon's forearm. "Or..." He stands and walks around behind Percival, casually resting his hand on the other man's shoulder as he passes.

"Our Gwen is a little flirt," Leon chuckles.

"Guys, we don't know for _sure_ he's with her," Percival reminds them. "I mean, I was just guessing, but it stands to reason."

"Let's find out," Merlin says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"What are you going to do, burst into her room and shout, 'Aha!'?" Leon asks, standing.

"Of course not. I'm nothing if not subtle," he says. He turns to leave the kitchen and accidentally kicks a chair, sending it skidding across the floor.

"Subtle. Right," Percival says, replacing the chair.

xXx

Guinevere slowly wakes, feeling cozy, relaxed, and _completely_ content. _I slept so well._ She scrunches, eyes still closed, and feels Arthur's warm embrace surrounding her. _I know why I slept so well._ She smiles and turns her head just slightly, pressing her lips to his collarbone.

"Mmm." Arthur's arms tighten around her. "Again," he mumbles.

She's happy to oblige, kissing his collarbone again, longer this time, followed by his shoulder.

"This is a good way to wake up," he says, his voice soft and sleepy. "Even if I'm not exactly ready to wake up."

"Your fault," she murmurs, her fingers tracing patterns in his (soft, not coarse) chest hair.

"My fault?" He cracks open one eye and peeks at her. She's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, and he instantly knows this is how he always wants to wake up. He smiles and opens his other eye.

"Mmm-hmm," she says. "You were the one who kept getting _ideas_ last night." She cuddles closer to him, pressing against his side.

His one hand slides down to cup her backside, squeezing lightly, while the other skims up her arm to her face, where he tilts her chin up. "I didn't hear any complaints from you," he replies. "In fact, I can say with some authority that all the sounds coming out of this mouth," he traces her lower lip with his thumb, "were quite the _opposite_ of complaints." He grins, then leans down and kisses her, rolling them so she is beneath him.

"Ugh," they say in unison. "Morning mouth," Arthur adds, no longer talking softly. He makes a face that causes Guinevere to giggle.

They hear muffled talking on the other side of Guinevere's door. Phrases that sound suspiciously like, "Told you" and "I guess I owe you a fiver" followed by very obvious shushing sounds.

Arthur stares down at Gwen's amused, wide-eyed expression, shakes his head in mild exasperation, and resumes kissing her neck. He nudges his way in between her knees and presses against her, making his intentions quite clear.

"Arthur," she whispers, "they're _right_ outside." She can still hear slight movement and snatches of whispers in the hallway.

"I locked the door last night," he says, his lips brushing her skin, undeterred.

"They'll hear," she says, her resolve slipping away.

"Not our problem if they want to be creepers." He moves lower, working his way to her breasts.

Gwen gets a deliciously evil idea, a mischievous grin on her face. "Arthur! Oh, God, Arthur! Yes, ooo, right there, oh! Oh! Yes!" she yells, faking orgasmic passion in the most ridiculous way she can. Arthur collapses over her, laughing like a madman against her chest. "Ooo, yes, give it to me, Daddy! Oh, Baby!"

The sounds of hastily retreating feet accompanied by Percival's laughter reach their ears through the door.

"Bloody hell, Guinevere." Arthur lifts his head, still laughing. "It's a good thing I know that's not _really_ what you sound like when... you know..."

"Do you?" she teases, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

He props himself up on his elbows, positioning himself between her thighs again. "Oh, yes," he confidently answers. "Quite sure."

"Oh..." Guinevere sighs and wraps her legs around his hips, welcoming him in.

"You are most definitely _not_ one of the lads," Arthur says, kissing down her neck as he begins to move.

xXx

Later that day, Guinevere and Merlin traded rooms. Merlin was happy to have his own room back, and Arthur was very happy to "get an upgrade," a phrase which earned him a punch on the arm from Guinevere.

The next week, Leon proposed to Mithian, and a month later, they moved into a place together.

A month after that, Percival moved in with Gwaine, and Arthur and Guinevere took over the master suite.

Four months later, Arthur proposed to Guinevere, and they were married four months after that.

Uther came to terms with Arthur wanting to make his own path in life, and seemed to be fond of Guinevere. He even covered most of the cost of the wedding.

Merlin moved to his own place just before they were married, but nearly a year later, still spends a lot of his time over at Arthur and Guinevere's, helping them redecorate the other two bedrooms. His new girlfriend, Freya, is an interior decorator, and she's been very helpful with ideas for the nursery they will need in about six months.

Arthur is hoping for a girl.

Guinevere wants a boy.


End file.
